Excerpt of Menage Lost by Cynthia Sax

Chapter One

An artificial thunder rolled across the mist–covered sky, the unnatural sound signaling a change Mirian both welcomed and dreaded.

"Do you hear that?" She tilted her head back. "Ohhh...the visitors are landing." Mirian bounced on the balls of her bare feet, nervous and excited and scared. "They're landing, Steve."

A small silver ship, the same ship she'd spotted skimming along the planet's surface yesterday, emerged from the heavy blanket of moisture. Dewdrops dappled its metallic panels. Markings in a language she didn't know were boldly etched along its hull.

"I thought we'd never see another being ever again." She trembled with excitement, having lived as the solitary humanoid on the vegetation–dominated plant for the past five years, that status pushing her to the edge of insanity.

"So please don't eat them." Mirian glanced over her shoulder at the plant looming above her, his fuchsia flowers angled toward the ship, his blooms serving as eyes, his visual system as evolved as those found in warm–blooded life forms.

"Unless they're slavers." She shuddered, remembering how the slavers had dragged away the discovery team's leader Denise, the humanoid female's heart–wrenching screams haunting Mirian's dreams.

"If they're slavers, eat them and leave the ship intact," she advised. Many of her supplies were sourced from a replicator and the machine desperately needed parts, the rectangular prism frame held together with twigs and hand–twisted twine.

"Don't let them capture me as you let them capture Denise. I'm your friend, remember." Mirian tapped a broad green leaf, Steve's veins plump and heavy with a red liquid resembling blood, the uniquely Viridian plant incorporating animalistic attributes. "I feed you Sus, those sweet little rodents you like. I—"

The roar of the ship's engines drowned out Mirian's words. Wind whipped her hair back and rippled the blue mud she'd slathered on her skin, the decaying vegetation's stench masking her human scent, the cool layer lowering her body temperature.

"Please let them be humanoid," she murmured, clasping her calloused hands together. Steve, the alpha plant she'd named after her first botany professor, curled a comforting vine around her shoulder, and she leaned into him, his leaves pressing against her bare back, supporting her weight.

The ship landed with a planet–shaking thud, boulders rattling, and a tree limb crashing to the ground. Steve fluttered his leaves, expressing his irritation with the disturbance.

Mirian groaned, the visitors' careless landing dramatically lowering their odds of survival, Steve viewing any affront to his planet as an act of aggression. "Don't hurt them." She rubbed the healed puncture marks on her right arm, the scars a constant reminder of the plant's bad temper.

"You don't know when or if we'll get more visitors. This could be our only chance." To re–establish contact with the outside world, to ease the loneliness, to talk to someone, anyone, to feel human once again. She danced in place, the anticipation almost unbearable. What will they look like?

The high grasses, majestic torch trees and white clouds reflected off the shiny silver panels, the spacecraft visually disappearing into the landscape. A ramp silently descended, and bright lights illuminated the void, temporarily blinding Mirian.

She glanced down at the ground and bit back a curse, her highly intelligent plant friend not waiting to identify their guests. He slowly snaked his vines along the flattened grass and wrapped them around the landing gear, securing the ship to the planet.

"Subtle, Steve, really subtle." Mirian rolled her eyes, too exhilarated to be angry with him.

A red beam radiated from the ship and she froze in place, holding her breath, her stomach clenching with fear. The light passed over them, tickling her skin, and dissipated, leaving them unharmed. Not a weapon. She exhaled, sagging forward, and Steve mimicked her actions, his thin, flexible trunk folding into two.

Polished black boots clomped against the metal ramp. Mirian lifted her gaze over a pair of leather–clad legs, the newcomer's skintight garment covered with a staggering amount of daggers and guns. Thick gloved fingers gripped yet another weapon, that gun larger than the others, and the male's bulging biceps flexed, his toned chest topped by broad shoulders.

She gazed higher and blinked, taken aback by the raw aggression reflected in the stranger's fuck–with–me–and–die face, his slicked–back black hair accentuating his white skin, his chin square and firm.

"Humanoid, definitely humanoid," Mirian murmured. The male glared at his surroundings with blazing red eyes, as though daring someone to attack him, and her pussy moistened, his dominance unexpectedly arousing. "A very sexy humanoid."

The big brute turned his head with a snap and peered in her direction, his dark brows lowered, shielding his eyes. "Who's there?" His deep voice echoed as though traveling over a long distance. "Show yourself."

Helenos no. Mirian remained hidden in the tall grass. Is he a slaver? She glanced at the weapons accessorizing his outfit. He doesn't look like a slaver. No restraints dangled from his belt. He could be a warrior, but why would a warrior land on Viridi?

Is the why important? He did land and I'm no longer alone. Mirian opened her mouth to answer him.

"Are you talking to the plants, Xan?" A voice originated from the ship.

Another male. She pressed her lips together.

The second male glided down the ramp, his slight, thin form garbed in the same black leather, his skin the whitest white and his eyes a deep crimson. Finely arched eyebrows accentuated a delicate, perfect profile.

He's beautiful. Mirian's jaw dropped. Fuck me gorgeous.

"I've performed multiple scans." The breathtakingly stunning male waved a small handheld device. "Only Amani–like creatures inhabit Viridi." The tentacles on his head lifted, each skin–covered strand moving independently.

Tentacles, pale skin, red eyes. Mirian's shoulders lowered, her concerns vanishing. He's a Balazoid, friend to the Federation.

"I heard a female voice speaking words in the universal language." The beastly warrior, Xan, frowned, his wide sloping forehead creasing with lines. "And you saw a larger heat signature."